


That One Time Where Gus Saw Serial Killers

by thatonedudewiththename



Category: Psych, Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Telekinesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonedudewiththename/pseuds/thatonedudewiththename
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two hunters and two fakes walk into a bar... and end up having to save Santa Barbara from an exploding telekinetic!</p>
            </blockquote>





	That One Time Where Gus Saw Serial Killers

"Gus, don't be the sand in sandwich, or the witch, for that matter. I promise I'll pay you back next time Chief Vick pays us."  
Dean looked up from his plate of fries at the sound of loud conversation coming from two guys entering the diner he and Sam were eating lunch at. The male speaking was about his height, maybe a bit shorter, and a little on the chubby side, though on him it looked natural. His hair was geled up in a sorta messy, but neat spike, like Dean's, only not as clean, and he had sparkling hazel-green eyes that jumped out and smacked Dean on the face as he and his black friend walked by. As they did, the lightly tanned man happened to look down and caught him staring, flashing him a brilliant smirky smile and winking with a flick of his head before turning back to who the bewildered hunter had heard as Gus.   
During this, Sam had been silently eating a salad, but when he saw his brother do a double-take at someone entering the diner he stopped and watched Dean become transfixed on a swaggering man-accompanied by another guy-as he walked past toward a booth by a back window. He watched as Dean's cheeks flushed when the guy smiled and winked at him in a "'sup, bro?" kinda way, and then raised his brows when his elder turned around in his side of the booth to follow said male to his seat with his eyes. He frowned in a quizzical way and cleared his throat. "Dean."  
Dean didn't respond.   
"Ahem. Dean."  
Finally, he turned back, albeit a bit dased. "What?"  
"Why were you staring at that guy?"  
"What guy? What?"   
So we're gonna play this game. "That one, over there, with that other guy in the booth."  
Dean followed Sam's eyes and head flick toward the booth he'd directed at and lingered a moment before turning back. "Nothing. He just looked familiar."  
Sam frowned snarkily. "You were blushing."  
Just as he said that, Dean put a french fry in his mouth and then promptly choked on it. When he recovered, he gave him a hard look "No I wasn't."  
The younger Winchester smirked knowingly, raising his hands in defense with a chuckle. "Ok, ok, you weren't."  
Dean lowered his gaze back to his plate, but not before they flickered with brief relief and confusion.

 

Psychic Detective Shawn Spencer of the Santa Barbara Police Department found himself puzzled as to why the admittedly handsome man who had caught his eye on the way in looked so familiar. Shawn thought that he would be able to remember a face like that, one all chiseled and tanned with lots of cute freckles and the greenest green to ever green eyes-  
"Shawn! Did you hear what I just said? Shawn!"   
The sound of Gus' voice cut into Shawn's observing, and he regretably turned to his cocoa-skinned compatriot. "Yes, sweet-'n-delicious?"  
"First of all, don't call me that in public. Second, you know those dudes over there?" Gus motioned toward the man of Shawn's observations and what unfortunately looked to be his lover in the nighttime. He turned back to Gus. "Yeah, and?"  
"Do they look familiar to you?" Gus had that frightened I-know-something-I-wish-I-didn't edge in his voice. He nodded.  
"Yeah, but I can't remember where from.".  
"Well, I can," His best friend turned away from the direction of the men and lowered his voice. "Their faces were on the WANTED board at the police station!"  
"Damn, that's sexy... I mean," Shawn stopped when Gus gave him a scrutinising expression   
"Shawn, we have to call Lassie and Jules. We can use the reward money to pay off bills at the Psych office."  
"Uh-or, we could, talk to them." Shawn shrugged hopefully.   
Gus looked 'bout to explode. "What?!"  
But Shawn was already up and making his way toward them. "Shawn!" Gus whisper-yelled as he ran after him. He came to a stop beside him at the booth where the two men resided, expressions confused.  
"Uhm, can we help you?" The younger man to Shawn's right asked. The other male, who looked like a John or Damian, was staring rather obviously at the psychic with bright green eyes and flushed cheeks. A quick look-over told Shawn that they were both armed, military trained, but not totally unable of being taken down if they attacked. "Yes, as a matter of fact. I am Psychic Detective Shawn Spencer with the Santa Barbara Police Department, and this is my partner Black Mercury. Like Freddie Mercury, except black."  
"Jus-jus-just call me G-Gus." Gus shrank back when John/Damian and his partner looked at him questioningly. Shawn rolled his eyes. "Dude, pull yourself together!" He hissed at him.  
"I can't, Shawn, they're looking at me like they're gonna eat me."  
"Gus, this isn't Legion, where their heads are gonna spin around and their eyes turn black because they're possessed by angels or something. So stop."  
Shawn turned back with a bright smile. "Sorry. My younger sister gets nervous around wanted serial killers. I, on the other hand, deal with one everyday, and his name rhymes with Sharlton. No relation."  
"Wait-excuse me?" Damian-Shawn decided his name was Damian, or something similiar-held up a hand with furrowed brows. Gus whimpered.  
"My psychic vibrations are telling me that you two are wanted men. Serial killers, bank robbery, maybe male prostitution."   
Damian and his lover(?) exchanged strange looks. "Also I suspect you two are close. Very close. Maybeee lovers?" Shawn did his best to keep the hope out of his voice. He squinted, and when he caught their horrified and slightly angry countenances he shook his head with relief. "Nope! No, more platonic... but related... brothers?"  
The younger nodded with an exasperated sigh. "Hah, yeah, this is my brother Dean, and I'm Sam." Sam waved his hand at Dean, who Shawn pivoted toward.   
"Dean. Hmm, I was close."   
Dean frowned. "What?"  
"So, Dean, Sam, what are two good-looking mass murderers like yourselves doing in a place like Santa Barbara?"  
Sam blushed and eyed his brother. "Dean," he mumbled, flicking his eyes at the two child-men standing by their booth. Dean rolled his eyes and told them, "We're not serial killers. They already got the guys that did those murders."  
"Oh really? Well, you have the same names as them!" Gus replied with zero confidence in his voice and a shaking body as he showed them his mobile screen that had the F.B.I's Most Wanted website on it.  
"Dean." Sam hissed.  
"Shut up Sam." Dean countered through his teeth. He smiled winningly at Shawn and asked him, "You said you were a psychic, right? Now, tell me, do you think we did that?"  
Another, more thorough reading of them and the F.B.I's website told Shawn all he needed, and as much as he wanted to jump around, he kept his excitement to a minimum. "Gus grab them!" He leapt at Dean and quickly subdued him before checking on Gus.   
He was lying on the floor, out cold on top of Sam, who was struggling to get away. Shawn grabbed Dean's ivory-handled gun and aimed it at Sam after checking that the safety was on. "Hands in the air!" He ordered, slipping into cop mode. Sam raised his hands with an expression that read, "Son of a bitch". Gus finally came to and got off of Sam once he'd taken his gun like Shawn told him to and trained it on the gigantic man. All around, everyone was staring at them in shock, but thankfully no one had called the police. The last thing Shawn needed was Lassieface and Jules to get involved in his epic plan. "It's alright! I am Psychic Detective Shawn Spencer with the SBPD, and my partner and I are subdueing these suspects! Please, go about your business!"  
"Motherfucker," Dean grumbled when Shawn's knee nestled itself in his groin after he'd shifted to try and get away. Shawn smirked at his flustered expression and apologised. "Sorry, my body does what it wants around hot people. This happens when I look in the mirror sometimes."  
Dean growled at the further shifting and the heat travelling down to that area. Thankfully, the pineapple-and-Axe-smelling man got up off of him and yanked him up by his shirt collar, his half-erection slowly deflating. Gus motioned for Sam to stand and he did, all six feet and four inches of him. "Woah! Gus, looks like we caught Bigfoot after all. Damn, lookit his hair. What, do you use, Suave, or is it just naturally that fantastic? Personally, I-"  
"Shawn."  
"Right. Let's take their car, which, if my psychic visions are correct, which they are, it's that super-sick '67 Chevy Impala out there."  
"No one's touching my car!" Dean snarled with bared teeth.  
"Don't worry candy tamalé, I'll have Gus drive. Wouldn't want to ruin that awesome black paintjob."  
By now, they were shoving Sam and Dean into the back of the Impala after taking Dean's keys and using zippy-cuffs to tie their wrists to the handholds on the top of the door. "But what about the Blueberry? You know I can't leave it here." Gus stood outside the driver's side door and followed Shawn down as he got in.   
"I'll have Woody pick it up. Besides, I need him at my place, anyway."  
"Fine," Gus put a spare key for the Blueberry inside the outside handle of his car before getting into the Impala and driving to his best friend's apartment, Shawn keeping a gun on the Winchesters at all times. 

They made it in about ten minutes with relatively no struggling from either Winchester, although Dean tried to get free a few times. Threatening to shoot the upholstery seemed to get him to behave, however. Shawn and Gus managed to get the two men upstairs and tied to chairs in a matter of minutes, and a little while later Woody showed up with the still-intact Blueberry and a huge box of books. "I came as soon as I could. I brought the books. The whole series."  
"You complete me, Woody. Thanks." Shawn took the box and allowed Woody inside, the coroner immediately "teleporting" to Sam's side. "Hi," he gushed. Sam frowned and tried to move away from him. Dean laughed, but then stopped when he saw what was inside the box Shawn and Gus were sorting through. "SON OF A FUCK CHUCK!" He practically screamed.   
"What?" Sam asked, leaning over to see. When he did, he groaned. "Ffffuuuucckk."  
"So you know these books?" Gus questioned.  
"When I find Chuck I'm gonna kill him so hard." Dean growled, face up toward the ceiling.   
Shawn practically sat in Dean's lap with a kid-at-Christmastime expression upon his face. "So you guys actually hunt monsters?"  
"And demons?" Gus added.  
"And have sex with said monsters and demons?" Woody contributed in Sam's direction.   
"This has got to stop." The eldest Winchester groaned.  
"NononoWAIT-" Sam's eyes widened as Woody placed his lips on his and kissed him. For a long time.   
"Woodster, we're not here to molest them." Shawn pulled at Woody's shoulder, and he departed.  
"I wasn't chewing gum before." Sam gagged with a disgusted countenance. Dean couldn't help but laugh, it quickly drowning when he saw Gus take a picture of him and his brother with his mobile and do something with it. "Posted it." Gus announced.  
"Awesome. They're gonna be so jealous." Pineapple man ran to the bedroom of his flat in a hurry.  
"Wait, posted what? To where?" Sam struggled against his restraints wildly.   
"Don't bother struggling. Shawn's dad was a cop and taught him how to tie that knot, so there's no point." Gus told the giant.   
This perked Dean's interest. "He was? So, he taught him how to do police work?"  
"Sometimes, yeah. All throughout his life. Shawn hated it, but it's saved his life more times than I can count."  
Shawn came back as Dean mulled over this new information, oblivious to the fake psychic's collection of notebooks in his hand and excited expression upon his face until he spoke out. "You guys gotta tell us if these cases we've been taking from the police station are supernatural. Woodman, you gotta go, buddy."  
"Darn it." Woody stood from his spot beside Sam and made his way toward the door. "Bye guys."  
"Bye, Woody," Shawn and Gus waved simultaneously as the coroner closed the door behind him on his way out. Once he was gone, the two fakes immediately dragged a table over to the two brothers along with a couple chairs and sat on each side, spreading out their case files and work. "Check out this first one; two guys, completely healthy physically and mentally, on the same night and at the same time in two different areas of Santa Barbara just wham! Kill themselves by a Columbian bowtie using a piece of mirror."  
Gus took over. "The police couldn't find any connections between them, but Shawn and I did a little digging into their history through their friends and found out that they both attended the same camp as kids."  
"And, at the time they were there, two boys also killed themselves-"  
"-by a Columbian bowtie with a piece of broken mirror."  
Although Sam and Dean were being held hostage, this case actually did sound very interesting. They looked at each other and exchanged "why the hell not" looks before turning back to Shawn and Gus. "Let's see the others."

 

By late that evening, they had separated the cases into three piles: supernatural, maybe supernatural, and normal, or at least as normal as crimes get. Gus took the natural cases back to the station while Shawn and the still-bound Winchesters researched the few maybe not natural cases in the second pile. "This one might be a Jengu, or a vengeful spirit. Either way, this one's definitely abnormal." Sam told the other two men with him, motioning for Shawn to move the case to the other pile.   
"This one's just a psycho-killer. I've seen his M.O before." The elder hunter reported. Shawn moved it to the normal pile.   
"Another vengeful spirit. Jeez, you guys have a lot of strange cases for one town."  
The psychic nodded. "The spirits I communicate with say we might have a portal somewhere to the spirit world. I dunno where, though." Shawn tossed two cases into the normal stack and the last three into the supernatural one, rubbing his face with a groan. "Imma get ready for bed. Back in a bit."  
He stood up and spun around in one quick movement, dashing off to his bedroom with a quick dazzling grin to Dean that made the hunter's breath hitch in his throat. As soon as he was gone, Sam turned to his brother as best he could. "What is it with you and the psychic?"  
"He's a fake, for one. And two, there's nothing 'with me and the psychic'."  
"Sure, ok, just like there wasn't anything with you and-"  
"Back!"   
Shawn interrupted the two siblings' domestic and sat back down beside Dean... in only a pair of loose pineapple pajama bottoms and nothing else, as the air conditioning was broken and his bedroom could get really hot at night. Dean saw that he was right, the man was a little chubby, but it was a cute chubby and it filled him out nicely in those cloth trousers. The trousers had a pale yellow colour that only made Shawn's tan darker, which brightened his eyes and accented the hair on his chest, head, and-He didn't realise he was staring-neither did Shawn, for that matter, as he was researching something on his phone-until Sam kicked his leg and smirked, to which he replied "shut up" with his eyes and a kick back.   
Shawn looked up to see who was moving the table and saw Dean sitting there with furrowed brows and a slight pout, cheeks flushed slightly and a shit-eating grin on his brother's face. A memory jumped to mind of his first encounter with Dean and the way he had stared at him transfixed, and he looked down at himself as if remembering that he was only wearing trousers, smirking as he did when out of his peripheral vision he saw Dean doing the same with his emerald green eyes on him. "See something interesting, Dean?"   
Dean jumped and sat at attention, cheeks darkening further. "What?"  
Sam chortled, ignoring the kick he received for doing so.   
Shawn laced his fingers behind his head and sat back with closed eyes. His head began to hurt badly; this usually happened when he read, which is why he read hardly ever. Vrrr. His phone went off and he took it out, barely cracking an eye to read the text, which was from Gus telling him that he wasn't feeling great and had gone home, apologising and saying that he would try and be there tomorrow. Shawn replied that it was fine, he wasn't feeling too hot, either, and that he would see him tomorrow hopefully.   
Just as he sent it, his head ripped through with pain and he screamed, gripping his hair as his vision clouded with red and his ears rang sharply. He felt himself fall out of his chair, but didn't feel the impact as everything turned black. 

 

When Shawn managed to open his eyes-which felt tied to bags of lead-he was lying flat on the ground, limbs spread. His face felt covered in something dry and hard and his eyes stung. "... Shawn! Shawn, wake up! SHAWN!" Cried a voice that sounded like Sam.  
Shawn opened his eyes further and cried out.

Everything was floating in the air. His sofa, his table, the chairs, the Winchesters, everything.

He cried out again which caused all of the floating objects, Sam and Dean included, to come crashing to the ground with shatters of glass and snaps of wood and plastic. Thankfully, though, no snapping of bone. He jumped up when Sam and Dean's chairs broke apart and helped them up, his hands and body shaking badly. When they were up, Dean gasped, "Shawn, your face! There's blood!"   
"What?" Shawn reached up and scratched at the crusts on his countenance to find flakes of dried blood and smears of the fresh fluid on his fingertips. "Uhh..."  
"We gotta get him to a hospital. Dean, get him downstairs, I'll find the keys." Sam ordered.  
The taller male put his arm beneath Shawn's shoulder and helped him down to the Impala and into it. He had just barely strapped in beside him when Sam jumped into the driver's seat and put the key into the ignition, starting the car and almost flooring it to the closest hospital. "Ahhggh, my head... Dean, is it-is it sssplit? Jesus Christ..." Shawn groaned in agony and clawed at the upholstery, eyes screwed shut. Dean absentmindedly stroked the psychic's hair and arm, finally settling on Shawn's hand, which he gripped tightly. "Hurry up, Sam, come on."  
"I'm trying. Oh you've gotta be fucking-"   
Blue and red flashing lights lit up the interior of the Impala, causing Shawn to laugh airily. "Go ahe-head and ssstop. He'll l-l-let us go when he-he sees me."  
Sam began to pull over. "Sammy don't you fucking dare stop." Dean warned.  
Sam pulled over regardless.   
The officer came to the window. "License and-"  
"Please let us go officer, we need to get him to the hospital!" Sam pleaded, motioning to the back seat where Shawn was writhing in pain and covered in blood.   
"Shawn?" The officer now revealed as McNab questioned with a frown.   
"Ohh, h-hey M-McNab. Sorry I don't-hahhh-look so great." Shawn greeted with a pained smile.   
"Uhh... I'll go call in that I'm escorting you, just-just hang on! Go ahead and go!" McNab took off back to his cruiser, and Sam put the pedal to the metal to the hospital with McNab and his blaring sirens following.

Shawn was on the edge of unconsciousness teetering over the precipice when Dean carried him into the emergency room and demanded he be helped fucking immediately. The nurse called for a gurney, and Shawn was laid carefully on it and wheeled away with a doctor meeting it halfway down the hallway. Dean was held back just barely from following the group by Sam, McNab, and two orderlies, but eventually he calmed down enough to be let go.   
The knowledge that McNab had called in that he had escorted them to the hospital and that two detectives were on their way forced the brothers to wait for news on Shawn somewhere else, that somewhere else being the halls of the hospital close to the emergency room so they could see where the doctor took the two detectives and Gus, who had showed up just shortly after the lady and guy had, McNab having left per the older male's orders.   
They waited only about forty minutes for the doctor to come out and tell Shawn's friends how and where he was, and as soon as they left to Shawn's room the Winchesters followed closely behind. "Room 3467," Sam whispered to Dean. A supply closet was nearby, so they waited in that until the detectives left the room, and then they dashed quickly to the room and inside.   
"Hey, Dean, Sam! Wondering when you were gonna show. Sorry about Lassiepants and Jules, I didn't know McNab-"  
"Are you fucking OK?" Dean cut in hostiley, taking wide steps to Shawn's bedside.   
The psychic's eyebrows-as did everyone else's-shot up and his mouth fell open a little. "Uhh, yeah! They gave some pain killers and cleaned up my face; said that the blood was just from my nose and... eyes. My freaking eyes were bleeding, how badass is that?" He reported.  
"They're not sure what caused it yet," Gus told both men.   
"Well we sure as hell know: Shawn had a fucking seizure of some kind at his apartment and made everything in his flat lift up into the air, Dean and myself included!" Sam practically shouted.  
"I did? I don't really remember that..." Shawn mumbled.  
Just then, the door opened and in walked the two detectives from before; Lassiesomething and Jules. "HEY! Who the hell are you?" Lassiewhatever barked.  
"Fuck. Dean." Sam grumbled under his breath. Dean mumbled something exasperatedly in return, rolling his eyes.   
"Lassie! Jules! You're just in time; this is my... boyfriend, Damian, and his brother, Saider!" Shawn blurted.  
Dean stiffened and blushed, almost elbowing Shawn in the face but instead settling for gripping his hand tightly. Lassiter coughed, Juliet choked, Sam covered his mouth with his hand to stifle his laugh, but Gus remained completely straightfaced, as if this happened on a regular basis. "Oh. Well, nice to meet you. I'm Juliet." Jules walked over to Dean and held out her hand to shake, which Dean did, rather stifly.   
"Likewise," he returned.  
Lassiter's expression was dark and stabbing, but he also shook his hand. "Detective Lassiter."  
Dean put his hand in Lassie's, not prepared for the hard, icy hold he gripped it with, and he jumped slightly. One, two, three pumps, and then Lassiter pulled away. "Hey, sorry to interrupt this heartwarming family gathering, but I kinda need some alone time with my future relatives, so..." Shawn waved Jules and Lassie out, and they left. Once they were out of sight, Shawn turned half-serious. "Ok, so what the hell happened at my flat? You said everything was floating?"   
"Yeah! And you, what the hell is with the eye-and-nose-bleeding?" Dean waved his free hand over his face to motion at his nose and eyes.  
"Wait, what was floating?" Gus asked quizzicaly.  
"Shh!" The three men shushed him.   
"Do you think it might be a hex bag?" Sam questioned.  
"I've never heard of a hex doing that, but it wouldn't hurt to check." Dean answered with a shrug.  
"Uhh, alright, Gus and I'll go back Shawn's place and check around. You stay here and look for something."  
"Got it."   
Sam waved Gus to his side and they left, Gus promising that he'd be back soon. When they'd gone, Shawn stated, "Yaknow, you're still holding my hand."  
The hunter looked down with a frown and found that he was right and with a blush pulled his hand away. "Sorry."  
"Yeah."  
A moment of awkward silence passed between them as Dean did a quick sweep of the room until he broke it by clearing his throat. "That Lassie guy seems like a real dick."  
"Ahh, he's not that bad. Doesn't seem to like you very much, though." Shawn shrugged and grinned.  
"I'll grow on 'im. I always do."  
"Yeah, I bet."  
They both frowned a little with smiles at each other and laughed. Dean clapped Shawn on the shoulder. "Yaknow, you were a little creepy at first, but if someone can take me down and keep me from escaping, they're good in my book."  
"Thanks, Dean-O." Shawn returned the favour. "That means a lot."  
"Ahem." Someone cleared their throat from the doorway. The psychic and the hunter turned to them; him, actually, Lassiter. Lassie stood there awkwardly, folding and unfolding his hands. "Damian, may I speak to you outside please?" He requested with a wave of his hand toward the doorway. Dean turned to Shawn and excused himself, Shawn nodding. With a dreadweight in his gut, "Damian" joined the detective out in the hallway where they could talk privately. "So uhh, what do you need, Detective?" He asked.  
Lassiter placed his hands on his hips, causing his suit jacket to lift back and reveal his holstered guns. Dean saw them and straightened a little to check if he had his, finding that he did not and cursing internally. "When did you and Shawn get together? I've never heard him mention a girlfriend or... boyfriend of any kind." Lassie glared slightly, his blue eyes like ice lasers drilling into Dean.  
"That's 'cuz we just... got together, a couple days ago. We've been trying to get used to the fact that we're now a... thing." Jesus Christ, this was awkward. Trying to make up a "How we met" story on-the-spot was actually a lot harder than it looked, especially with Lassiter trying to fry his head like an egg with his eyes.  
"Really? Where'd you meet?"  
"Star Trek convention." Dean inwardly grimaced. How did he know whether or not Shawn liked Star Trek? Well, if Lassie's annoyed countenance said anything, then that was a yes, he did.   
"How did you meet at the convention?"  
"I was Bones and he was Captain Kirk."  
Lassiter swore under his breath. With a smirk, Dean relaxed a little. He had to admit, it was actually kinda fun getting on this guy's nerves. "Favourite book!"  
"Supernatural series. C'mon, son, you can do better."   
At the little saying, Lassiter's anger flared for a moment and Dean thought he was going to shoot him. Instead, he pivoted on his heel and stormed off, leaving Dean chuckling as he went back into Shawn's room with a big grin on his face. "Man, pissing off Lassie is really fun." He commented while sitting on the bed beside the fake psychic.  
"I know right? One time, me 'n Gus-" Shawn was cut off by his eyes beginning to glow green and the bed starting to shake, his expression dropping and mouth falling open. Dean was confused until he felt himself being lifted off the bed by an imaginary hand like everything else was off the linoleum floor. "Shawn? Shawn, what's going on?" He called. "Shawn?!"  
The light disappeared as suddenly as it came, everything falling back to the floor with a crash. Shawn shook his head but grimaced as he did, for the ache had broken through his pain meds and was making his head throb. "What the fuck was that?" He moaned as Dean helped him to lie back.   
The hunter shook his own head with furrowed brows. "I dunno, but you seem to be the cause of it. Are you having any psychic visions when it happens?" Although Dean knew he was a fake, it didn't hurt to ask in case he was wrong.   
"No, none that I can I remember. Hey, what if I'm getting telekinetic? That would be so dope!"  
"It's telekinesis, and I don't know. We gotta wait 'til Sammy comes back with Gus before we jumpta any conclusions."  
"Right." Shawn settled into his pillows and pulled the covers up to his chin. "Jesus, these beds are frickin' amazing. You should try it."  
A chuckle from Dean. "Nah, I'm good, thanks."  
"Aww, c'mon, just for a little bit." The psychic pulled one of his famous puppy faces.  
With a roll of his eyes, Dean mumbled, "Fine," before climbing into bed on top of the covers beside Shawn, who smiled a shit-eating grin at getting his way. Even before they'd settled comfortably, Dean was feeling fatigued; Shawn was right, these beds were amazing. "Ugh God I'm gonna fall asleep." He groaned with a sigh.  
"Toldya." Shawn cuddled up close beside the fitter man with his eyes closed and a little smile. A light blush crept up onto Dean's cheeks and he squirmed awkwardly. He opened his mouth to say something in protest of the close proximity, but when he heard the light snoring he closed it again and huffed a snorting laugh. With another sigh, he closed his eyes and was soon asleep. Neither had noticed that their hands had subconsciously intertwined.   
It wasn't very long after that that Sam and Gus returned from scouring Shawn's flat for a hex bag or witchcraft of some kind. They'd found nothing, unfortunately, but they had cleaned up a bit, them being the nice gentlemen they were. Now they were back at the hospital heading to Shawn's room, Sam in a bit of a hurry being that Dean hadn't answered his phone the last three times he'd called, which was unlike him. However, when they reached the room, he and Gus found out why. "I told you that they were probably asleep." Gus remarked.   
"I suppose you did." Sam murmured, eyes on the two half-embracing figures in the bed.  
'Well, I gotta go. I have work tomorrow." The more mature one of Psych told Sam as he picked up some stuff before exiting the room.  
"Uhm, bye." Sam waved awkwardly.  
"Bye." Gus called over his shoulder.  
The tallest Winchester closed the door and crossed the room to a chair on Dean's side of the bed; the left side. Into it he slumped, exhausted and drained. So it was no surprise that when Juliet and Lassiter came to check on Shawn, all three men were asleep. 

 

A cold wind was all around when Shawn awoke later that morning, gray clouds above and around. He startled himself into a crazy spin when he felt no ground beneath his feet, and soon came to realise that he was floating in the air. He managed to steady himself enough to stay upright and look down to the earth below. By the size of the buildings, the force of the wind, and how close the clouds were, he was about 20, 000 feet in the air, which caused his stomach and himself to drop. Shawn screamed briefly, as he hadn't dropped far, but when he fell again and didn't stop, he screamed more. He fell, and fell, and fell, everything he tried to do to stop or slow his descent not working. For some reason, in the back of his mind, he worried about people finding his body dressed in a hospital gown with nothing beneath, but that was quickly silenced when he finally wailed, "STOP!!" and stopped falling at about 9, 000-10, 000 feet up. Breath heavy, he whispered hoarsely to no one, "Down... slowly,"   
Slowly, he descended, scared out of his mind with his gown flapping around him and tears dripping up out of his eyes. It was a long time before he reached the ground, but for him time was wibbley-wobbley and passed too quickly and not quick enough.   
Where he touched down at was the roof of the hospital. There were sirens in the distance, but he wasn't paying attention; the rude way in which he had awoken and the strain on his exhausted mind was too much, and by the time he reached the floor that his room was on via elevator he fainted halfway out of the lift. 

Dean was frantic. Shawn had been missing when he'd woken up, and for all he knew had been gone all of that morning. The security cameras outside of the psychic's room had fritsed out, so they were of no use. Currently, Dean was sprinting through the hallways and barging in on people's sponge baths looking for his boyfriend. "Shawn, where the fuck are you?" He growled through his teeth. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. At the sound of an elevator opening and closing repeatedly, the hunter rounded another corner and reeled backwards in shock and relief.  
There was Shawn, halfway out of the elevator lying on the floor with the doors trying to close on him. "Jesus Christ!" Dean dashed to his aid, pulling him out of the way and picking him up in his arms bridal-style. "Shawn, buddy, come on, you gotta wake up." Begged he as he ran Shawn back to his room. The unconscious man did not awaken, however, which only caused Dean to race faster and faster to the hospital room. There, he met up with Sam and a half-asleep Gus, as well as Lassie, Henry-who was finally called-and Jules. "Help me get him inside," he requested of Sam. The two laid Shawn carefully down onto the bed so the doctor and nurse could reconnect him to the machine. A moment passed, and then the psychic's racing heart could be heard on the monitor. "We're going to have to ask you to step outside, sir. We need to check him for injuries." The nurse told Dean firmly.  
"No, no, I gotta stay with him, please." Dean argued, not letting go of Shawn's limp hand.   
"Dean, let them help him." Sam softly whispered, pulling his brother away from the bed and out to the hallway. Immediately, Dean's hands were gripped in his hair, eyes becoming watery and red. He paced around, ignoring everyone as tears slowly started to trickle out of his green orbs. Lassiter's expression was hard but caring, his eyebrows frowned over icy blue eyes that seemed to be trying to read Dean's actions. Juliet and Henry took Sam and Gus to the waiting room (Henry asking Juliet who the two new guys were) while Lassie stayed to watch over "Damian" and make sure he didn't hurt himself. It was a while before he calmed down enough to allow Lassie to speak to him. "You really care about him," the detective stated.  
Dean almost scoffed. "Of course I do." Then, with contempt, "Unlike some people."  
Lassie shot up off the wall right into Dean's face. "Now you listen here Barbie, I've known that man for longer than you ever have, so don't even go there. I care about him regardless of what he may say; I only treat him like I do to prepare him for the harshness of what we do as cops because I know what it can do to someone and I don't want to see him end up like me!" He shouted. Unbeknownst to him, he had also started to cry a little.   
The words he spoke hit Dean hard. This guy sounded just like his father, if he'd ever explained why he treated his sons like he did, and he also worded what Dean had been telling himself over and over since he'd taken Sam from Stanford. "I know," he sobbed lightly, "fuck, I know." All fight flew out of his body and he fell onto Carlton, who had sort of expected it and took the weight easily.

 

It would be forenoon before Shawn awoke. When he did the room was empty save for Dean, whose face was in his free left hand, the other in the psychic's left. He smiled a genuine smile at the hunter before calling in a croaky tone, "Hey spicy candy. Miss me?"   
Dean's head whipped up so fast at the sound of his voice that Shawn was worried he'd break his kneck. "Shawn!" The taller male cried, moving closer and gripping his hand tighter. "You're awake!"  
"Yeah, and I'm hungry. Where can I get some food in this joint? Not like the gross hospital food, but a nice burger or maybe a taco... oohh, some pineapple sounds nice. A pineapple smoothie. Did you know that in every other language they're called ananas? The pineapples, not the smoothies. I don't know what those are called. Dean? Are you okay?"  
During his incessant babbling, Dean had slowly let out a long breath of relief and doubled over, white-knuckle-gripping the bedsheets. Shawn reached out and placed a hand on one of Dean's strong shoulders. "Hey? Buddy? Dean? Damian?" When he received no answer, he tried again. "Dean-O? Deany? Winchester? Tony Stark? I always thought you'd be a good Ironman."  
This time, the hunter sat back with red, watery eyes and a heavy intake of breath. "Ah... yeah, I'm uh, I'm good. Just..." he wiped his eyes and smiled weakly. "I was just so goddamn worried, heh."  
Shawn slapped his right hand over his heart with a shocked/awwed gasp. "I'm touched! You, worried for me? Aww!" Tightening his grip on Dean's hand he pulled him over to him in one mighty tug, embracing the more muscular man. "You big softie~"  
"Ahh, so not cool that you can pull me around." Complained the slightly irked man beneath his breath as he hugged Shawn in return.   
They were that way for a while until someone cleared their throat. Dean pulled away only enough to turn and see who it was, Shawn greeting the old man when Dean was out of his line of sight. "Dad! Hey! De-Damian, this is my dad, Henry."  
Jeez, he wasn't even dating the guy and he was already meeting his parents. Dean crossed the room to shake the hand of the mostly bald man in the Hawaiian button-up shirt and sandals. "Hi, Mr. Spencer. I'm uh, Shawn's boyfriend, Damian." Dean greeted awkwardly.   
Henry grabbed his hand somewhat roughly and shook it. "Nice to meet you, Damian. Just call me Henry... for now."   
"Ookay."   
After they'd let go, Henry went around to the other side of Shawn's bed and began to talk with him, although about what Dean wasn't sure as Sam reached through the doorway suddenly and yanked him out into the hall. "Hey, what-"  
"Shh! We gotta show you something!" Gus whisper-cried, waving a CAT scan print-off. Both his and Sam's expressions were wide-eyed and restrained. Quizzically, Dean whispered, "What?"  
Sam took one edge of the scan and held it up, Gus taking the other. "This is Shawn's scan from when he first came in. Looks normal, right?" He asked.  
Dean squinted at it, and then nodded. "Yeah. And?"  
The next one somehow appeared in Gus and Sam's hands. "Now look at this one of him after you found him in the elevator." Gus took over.  
It was definitely not normal. His whole brain was afire with activity, almost as if it were changing. Realisation smacked Dean in the face. "He's becoming psychic?"  
"Close; telekinetic. He's in the first stages of gaining telekenisis." Sam answered.  
"I thought there was never any solid evidence of a real telekinetic person outside of that one guy with the demon blood?"   
"Yeah, but get this; Dad's journal contained snippets of a news article that had some stuff underlined and one word: 'telekinetic' with a question mark after it. I cross-referenced what Dad had underlined with Shawn's doctor's reports, and it adds up. I mean, the disappearing, the nose and eye bleeding, objects floating in the air-"  
"-glowing green eyes?" Dean added. His expression slowly became more focused as the pieces began to fall into place.   
Sam frowned. "How did-"  
"That happened right before he disappeared. His eyes glowed green and everything in the room lifted off the floor at least two feet into the air."  
"He's almost completely changed, then. That's not good." Gus was starting to freak out. Sure, having a telekinetic friend was hella awesome, but not when he would... would...  
"Why's that not good? Sammy?" Now Dean was frightened.  
Sammy seemed hesitant to answer. "Uhh... when he reaches the final stages, he's gonna, uhmm, wipe out the whole city. The girl who was in the article is now in a mental institution because, when they found her, she was lying in the middle of what used to be Greenswood, North Carolina. That town, isn't there anymore."   
Gus held up a satellite image of a huge barren circle labelled "Greenswood". Dean stared for a few minutes, and then looked up at Sam with determination in his eyes. "We gotta get him out of here."  
"Dean, we don't have enough time to get him far away enough where he won't cause any harm."  
"And what do you suggest we do? Kill him? Gus, do you want that? I reckon not. And what about his dad? Hmm? And Juliet and Lassiter? He's an innocent person, Sammy. Do you want that on your conscience?"  
Sammy shifted his weight from leg-to-leg, looking indecisive. Dean almost snarled, "That's what I fucking thought." Turning away, he stomped back into Shawn's room and sat beside him on the bed, holding his hand and resting his head on his shoulder, Henry on the other side with a small smile on his face. Sam watched sadly as Shawn reached up and stroked his right hand through Dean's hair, smiling with eyes closed as he rested his head on the other's. The younger Winchester lowered his countenance to the ground and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips; why did Dean have to choose this guy to fall in love with, or whatever the fuck he felt for the fake psychic but real telekinetic? It was as if they'd been meant to meet Shawn in that diner, a totally random and chance meeting that somehow happened to them. "Hey, I don't like this any more than you do, but Dean's right. I don't want Shawn to die, but I don't want him to destroy Santa Barbara, either." The lifetime best friend of Shawn shrugged.   
"Hah, yeah, I know, me neither." Sam sighed, flickering his gaze briefly to Dean and Shawn before darting to Gus. "Come on, we should get ready to take Shawn on the road."  
"Me, too. No way I'm letting you freaks take my best friend on some crazy road trip without me."   
The two laughed as they reached the lift and called it. Behind them, Juliet and Lassiter were walking down the hallway toward Shawn's room to check up on him. They passed Henry on his way out, and took that as a sign that he was awake. When they reached the room, they entered, Juliet coughing. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt." She spoke out.  
Dean cracked an eye, a particularly unpleasant frown passing over his face at being bothered. He and Shawn were still in the same position that Sam and Gus had left them, his head resting on Shawn's shoulder and Shawn's head on his, right and left hands intertwined and eyes closed. Now, thanks to Jules' loudness, Shawn was stirring. "Jus five more minutes Gus, I'll get up in a min..." he slurred sleepily, turning over and wrapping an arm around Dean and holding him close. Dean blushed and cleared his throat lightly.   
"Uhh... sorry guys, looks like no one's going to be talkin' 'bout anything."  
Lassie rolled his eyes. "Let's go, O' Hara." He turned to leave.  
"Uhh, wait, Carlton, for a minute," Jules took a couple steps toward the bed and in turn Dean. Shifting on her feet, she asked, "Why does Shawn act so differently with you? I mean, like himself, but calmer, more mature, you know?"  
A quizzical shadow passed over the hunter's face. "He's not like this with you guys?"   
Both Binky and Juliet shook their heads.   
Dean made a "hmmph" sound. "Oh. I dunno. We just get along well, I guess, since we have so much in common."  
Juliet made a put-off sound and crossed her arms. "Huh. Well, thanks."  
"Yeah."  
The two detectives turned and left, Lassie sending a nod of awknowledgement Dean's way as he did. The gesture was returned, and then they were gone. 

 

Baby was packed and ready by early evening, and Shawn ready for transport by nighttime, as they had to wait until the security in the psychic's quarter of the hospital died down before they could move him.   
Hearing that he was literally a ticking time bomb about to explode didn't seem to put Shawn in a bad mood, although Gus and Dean knew better: the overgrown adolescent was scared, as his clingyness towards Dean was more clingy than usual. 

Where they decided to take Shawn for his meltdown was the Sonoran desert, as it was flat, deserted, and close by. No one would be hurt, if they could get there in time. If not... well, not too many people would be blown away in the blast. Hopefully it would just destroy empty buildings. Shawn's reaction to his upcoming explosion was: "I'm like Peter Petrelli in 'Heroes' when he absorbed that other guy's ability to be a ticking time bomb. Not the greatest power."   
Although his referance and body language was comical, all three of his friends could see that he was scared. Peaceful, but scared. Dean didn't like it, his trying to hide how he felt, and voiced his opinion the night after they'd left the hospital while the others were sleeping.   
Shawn was sleeping in the passenger's seat of the Impala, as Sam was taking up the backseat and Gus the floorboard. The "boyfriend" of the car was turned on his side in the driver's seat watching Shawn with furrowed brows and crossed arms, debating whether or not to wake the psychic and get on his case about his lying. Thankfully, Shawn awoke on his own and took care of that for him. "Oh, you're the one I felt lustfully gasing at me in my sleep." He joked, inhaling and stretching in the seat. "Am I really that irresistable?"  
Dean rolled his eyes but blushed regardless. "I was just trying to figure out whether or not to wake ya up and ask why you're trying to hide the fact that you're scared."  
Even in the dark, he could see Shawn's face fall. "Oh. I was kinda half-hoping you hadn't noticed. I was really just doing it for Gus."  
"We all know."  
"Dammit." Shawn rubbed his face. "Yeah, so, I'm scared of killing innocent people. Scared of wiping out a town. Scared of killing you... guys. Scared of maybe blowing up. Scared of ending up back in a cuckoo's nest."  
"Back?"  
"Yeah, that was a weird case. Anyway, I'm scared. I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared."  
"I understand, man. I've been scared lotsa times in my line of work. You don't gotta hide it, it only makes it worse. Believe me, I know."  
The fake psychic rolled onto his back and draped his right arm over his forehead. "Me, too, homeskillet."  
After a moment of silence, Dean reached out and took Shawn's hand into his own, smiling reassuringly when the brunet turned his head his way and smiled quizzically with a slight frown.   
They stayed that way even after they'd fallen asleep.

 

It was another day or so until they reached the desert. Shawn was close to exploding when they did, and unfortunately they had to kick him out of the car and drive away as fast as they could, as they didn't want to be destroyed.  
It took a lot to keep Dean from staying behind with Shawn in the Sonoran desert; Sam threatening to destroy his car by also staying behind seemed to get him to come with, but not before kissing Shawn on the forehead for good luck.   
The Winchesters and Gus timed their drive away for reference that they could go back to later, in case they ever ran into another telekenitic person and had to get them into an abandoned area fast. The timer had just hit seventeen minutes when there was a sharp ding, followed by a BOOM and a flash of light green light, and then the Impala was swept up in a giant huboob (Arizonian and African sand storm). For ten terror-filled minutes, the car was airborn, spinning wildly through the seemingly endless cloud of stinging sand that found its way into the interior and inner workings of Baby, rendering her useless when they finally touched down just two miles from the West border of Arizona, almost a hundred miles from where they'd dropped Shawn and seventy or therebouts from where the storm had taken them. "It's like we were in the frickin' Oz tornado!' Dean cried, throwing his hands up in frustration.   
"Or the Narnian wardrobe," Sam offered.  
"Or the Twilight Zone," Gus added.   
"Whatever! We gotta go back and get Shawn, come on." Dean turned the key in the ignition, but all the Impala did was splutter and cough. "DAMN IT!" He yelled.   
"The sand must've gotten into her engine," Sam muttered.  
"No shit, Sherlock! Fuck..." Dean placed his face in his hands and let out a shuddering breath. Sam and Gus stood awkwardly by as Dean tried to collect himself. When he had, he got out of the car and paced around. "We gotta go back and get him. We have to."  
"Yeah, but how? We kind of don't have a car." Sam replied.  
"Or food." Gus put in.  
"How far is the next town?"   
"About a day's walk South. Yuma."  
Dean stopped pacing. "Ok, so we walk to Yuma, 'rent' a car, and then book it to Shawn. We can't leave him for more than two days out there, so let's get a move on."

Meanwhile, Shawn was back in the sky, floating, turning in the air. Clouds formed a thick halo around him, also spinning slowly in time with him with lightning cracking and thunder booming inward toward where he hovered in the middle of the gigantic mass. He was still unconscious, his consciousness worlds away, across the galaxy where everything was perfect and Dean was his non-sexual partner for life. 

As much as our group of three wanted to rest when they reached Yuma and stole a car, they couldn't; not only were they running behind, but also the news in Yuma was showing a strange stormcloud phenomenon and something in the middle that wouldn't show up on camera. Talk of sending in scientists to investigate pushed the trio of men to floor it back to what they knew was being caused by Shawn. Dean was the designated driver through him refusing to allow anyone else to drive for the six-and-a-half-hours he had the gas pedal to the floorboard. He didn't talk, didn't take his eyes off of the road, didn't bother with the radio, didn't do anything but drive. Sam would mumble quietly to Gus every once in a while, and Gus in return, but otherwise neither spoke; even Gus knew not to bother Dean in this state, Sam especially knew not to. 

Shawn was just barely coming out of his trance when he felt something pushing at a boundary somewhere below him. When his eyes opened completely, he saw the sky above him and knew he was floating again, so, instead of freaking out like last time, he lowered himself slowly to the ground, the clouds around him dissipating as he did. As he descended and straightened himself out, he saw men in white coats speaking with three guys in dirty clothes, one of them extremely tall, one dark-skinned, and the other with really nice hair; Dean. At this realisation, he smiled, unaware that his appearance did not warrant such a facial expression, as his brain was still fussy from all of the power coursing through it. "Dean," he called, and as he did thunder struck and shattered the windows on the cars nearby and broke mobile phones in half (except for Shawn's, of course). All of the people no longer below him covered their ears and cried out in shock and pain. "Oops, my b." He apologised.   
"Shawn!" Dean cried out, relief washing over his features like the rain that was beginning to fall thanks to the compression of the clouds in one area. He stepped forward and embraced the psychic, and the psychic in return, causing lightning to strike thrice a half mile away in one spot repeatedly. Gasps of "Fascinating!", "Unbelievable!", and "Amazing!" resonated throughout the little group of scientists as they began to scribble on their clipboards.   
Dean pulled away from Shawn and smiled with watery eyes. "I'm glad you're OK, man."  
"Me, too. I thought I was actually gonna blow up, but I guess this is cool, too. I'm like that chick Storm from the X-Men, except not Halley Berry or hella sexy. Well, I mean I'm sexy, but not Halley Berry sexy. I could be, if I got like plastic surgery to change my gender, but I'm not gonna do that. Not that I have anything against people that do, I'm just saying it's not something I'd do. What were we talking about, again?" By now, Dean was laughing at Shawn's ramblings, as was Sam. Even Gus was chuckling. "Come on, let's get you in the car." Dean smiled and led Shawn to the blown-out SUV by the scientists' Prius' and LEAF's.   
"What happened to your kick-ass Impala?" Shawn questioned sadly.  
"You kinda... ruined it."  
"Oh. My b."  
"It's cool, it was time for her tune-up, anyway."   
Sam and Gus got the scientists to ruin their observations of Shawn and other evidence that the phenomenon was anything but a strange occurence caused by government experimentation of hot and cool air's affect on clouds and electrical charges. After the degected officials left, the four drove to the Impala and picked it up before cruising back to Santa Barbaratown, Shawn and Gus sleeping most of the way and the Winchesters sleeping in shifts. 

 

Lassie was waiting outside of the Psych office when the four men pulled up in the SUV towing the Impala. He helped Dean take Shawn inside, and then helped him clean out the Impala. Neither spoke, but then there was no need to; Lassie knew that whatever they had done to get the Impala that way and made them look like they did was to help Shawn, as he was already looking and acting better. "Thank you, Damian," he managed to get out as he handed Dean a wrench. "Whatever you guys did for Shawn, thank you."  
Dean turned to him and smiled a little. "My name's Dean, for one. And you're welcome."   
Lassiter's expression darkened briefly, but then clouded over with indecision. After a few minutes of helping Dean out and mentally arguing with himself, Lassie's face softened and he continued to help Dean fix Baby.

 

Sam and Dean stayed for another week in Santa Barbara not only to look after Shawn, but also to solve the supernatural cases that they had collected right before this whole ordeal had started. None of them were too crazy, thankfully, and it was a lot easier to kill the evil sons of bitches with Shawn's telekinetic powers getting them out of tight situations. They tried not to rely on it too much, however, as it weakened the fake psychic every time he used it for anything other than minor things like bringing a bag of crisps to the sofa during a telly show. During the time that they were together, the four friends grew very close, and when it was time for the Winchesters to leave, no one took it harder than Dean. 

Shawn and Dean were the only two still standing outside of the Impala, which was purring beautifully with Sam waiting inside and Gus in the office of the Psych building awaiting Shawn's return.   
The two were holding hands as they stood facing each other, strained, sad smiles upon their countenances that hurt the heart of every passer's-by. "So uh, I guess this is goodbye?" Shawn muttered, trying too hard to keep the humour in his tone. Near the end, it wittled away to deadpan ache.   
Dean shook his head. "I'll come see you. You have my numbers. This isn't goodbye, just-"  
"-TTYL?" The psychic breathed a chuckle and shrugged.  
The hunter nodded with a light airy laugh of his own. After a few moments, Shawn leaned in and, for the first time since they'd locked eyes in that diner, kissed Dean right on the lips lightly, Dean kissing back equally as soft. It wasn't fevered or needy; just something small and beautiful for the other to remember them by. When a minute or so had passed, they pulled back. "See ya later, Shawn Spencer." Dean mumbled.  
"See ya later, Dean Winchester." Shawn muttered in reply.  
The eldest Winchester smiled as best he could and walked away to go around the front of Baby, his hands unwillingly sliding out of Shawn's and to his sides. Shawn watched him climb in with a sad but hopeful expression upon his face that both were sporting for days afterward. The car door slammed shut, and Shawn stared after the Impala as she drove down the two-lane asphalt under the midday sun of Santa Barbara, California, and right out of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
